So I believe we’re exactly one week post-surgery as of like 2pm this afternoon. We’ve had an unbelievably easy ride of it so far; I feel both lucky and a little guilty since I know so many people have much greater struggles at first. So far, so good around here. It hasn’t been perfect, but it’s certainly been a lot better than I was braced for.
Really our only issues are being weirdly drugged out at night and so waking me up on occasion just slapping the plastic cone against walls as he decides to go stand somewhere really random, and usually a little creepy. Like, last night he was just standing in the hallway to the bathroom when he woke me up and the just kept standing there for like fifteen minutes with his cone-heal half-turned to look back at me. I finally got up to see if he was actually stuck with the cone, but no. Just being a weirdo.
That and boredom are what we’re dealing with. He is so, so sad that I will not play our usual games. Which actually makes me a little sad too, admittedly, since the whole reason I took his leg was so that he could go back to his long walks and playing fetch without being worried about fracture. In the meantime I’ve been trying every other form of entertainment I can come up with, but none of them last us for long. Hiding kibble in muffin tins beneath tennis balls, ‘find it’ with squeaky squirrels, frozen kongs… It’s just not enough for a dog that, even with the bone tumor was used to walking at least a mile most mornings and playing fetch for a half hour or so.
But if boredom is what we’re dealing with, shit, we’re doing amazing.
Also, I admit I’m ready not to be stuck in my living room pretty much 24 hours a day, but if I’m not here to guard his bum, then I have to cone him. And like every dog in existence, he hates the cone. And I hate making him do something he hates, especially when I’m not doing any of the things he likes. So. I basically haven’t left the living room except to shower and yesterday I mowed the lawn. A week. Binge watching British murder mysteries is awesome, but there are limits to all things in life.
I think I’m going to sneak out to the garage for my first workout this afternoon. Latest by tomorrow. He didn’t do anything stupid when I was mowing the lawn yesterday. He wasn’t happy about it, which is why I might wait one more day. He whined on the other side of the door. Normally he has no problems with me leaving for a couple hours. So, that tore at my heart a little. We’re going to try a day off the Trazodone today and see if that helps with the weird want-me-in-sight that we seem to be suffering.
Doesn’t want to cuddle though. Oh, no. The one thing that would probably make this all a bit cozier for Momma… He wants me near, but no touchy, Momma. He will allow petting, and he seems to downright enjoy the warm compress times when I sit next to him and pet him and… yeah, I totally still sing because he seems to just like to hear my voice while we’re doing it and I just don’t have that much to monologue. We moved on to Broadway tunes last night.
We’re definitely not really back to life as we knew it yet. Don’t know if we’ll have R with us long enough to really go back to that. But it is nice not to be scared of fracture all the time. At the moment we’ve just replaced that fear with fear of falling on the incision. But I imagine that will fade when the stitches come out. Then we’ll at least have gotten a bite to fear out of our lives. Probably worth it for a recovery that has so far mostly just been R bored and staring at me creepily with drug-puppy eyes.
Everyone told me my attitude was going to be one of the most important factors and luckily since R has had such a relatively easy ride, so far I haven’t found it hard to be calm and positive. The most I’ve been stressing over is why he’s had his tail tucked up to his belly most days. (That’s why we’re trying a Trazodone-free day today.) And happy? Of course I’m happy that “my little kangaroo boy” is home with me and bouncing around the yard.
(Actually, legit guys. Once the stitches are out and he’s off pain meds and I think he’s pretty much just totally comfortable again, I think I’m going to fall in love with the cute little hopping. When he starts to trot back into the house after potty breaks it’s all, ‘boing, boing, boing, boing’ and I think it’s adorable. Once I don’t have to feel slightly guilty for thinking he’s adorable when he’s hurt, I’m just going to fall completely in love with his hopping.)
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